


Tethered

by the_giant_rat_that_makes_all_the_rules



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon ages, Drama, Enemies to Friends, Escape, Gen, Gen Fic, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I literally can't get enough of their dynamic, Implied/Referenced Torture, Imprisonment, Kidnapping, Mild depictions of torture, in which they collectively wear an oversized shirt that says "this is our get-along shirt", just a lot of sass from both of them, stuck together, to the point that you wonder how they even get anything done, unlikely alliance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:00:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28524366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_giant_rat_that_makes_all_the_rules/pseuds/the_giant_rat_that_makes_all_the_rules
Summary: Shortly after her departure from the Jedi Order, Ahsoka Tano’s freedom is brought to an abrupt end as she soon finds herself captured by Darth Sidious and imprisoned on the planet Stygeon Prime.  Desperate times call for desperate measures, and in order to break free, she’ll need to rely on an old, yet powerful, enemy if she wants to make it out in one piece.However, escape was never meant to be easy, and this one comes at a particularly steep price.(Essentially a stuck-together, “this is our get along shirt” AU with Ahsoka and Maul)
Relationships: Darth Maul & Ahsoka Tano
Comments: 10
Kudos: 35





	Tethered

**Author's Note:**

  * For [13_ninjas_secretly_chomping](https://archiveofourown.org/users/13_ninjas_secretly_chomping/gifts).



> Hello guys, new fic alert ahahaha REEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
> 
> Just so everyone is on the same page where this is in the timeline, this fic will pick up at the end of The Clone Wars Season 5; right after Ahsoka leaves the Jedi Order, and Maul is captured by Darth Sidious.
> 
> Gifted/dedicated to someone who I consider to be a very good friend 😊 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The first thing Ahsoka noticed when she woke up was the cold, hard metal slab she was laying on.

She could immediately feel the tight knots buried deep in her muscles from sleeping in such an awkward position on a material so rigid and unforgiving, causing her to instinctively snake a hand around to rub out the sore tissue. As she sat up, swinging her legs over the side of the bench, she rolled her shoulder around, attempting to pop it out and relieve some of the tension built up in her joints.

The second thing she noticed was the bone-chilling cold.

Initially, she thought it was just the temperature of the room. She could, after all, see her breath faintly materialize in the air in front of her, the puffy little clouds dissipating almost as quickly as they formed.

After a moment, however, as she felt the cold sink deep into her muscles, joints, bones, _every fiber of her being_ , she began to realize that the cold she was feeling was almost a completely different beast entirely. Yes, she was physically cold; the goosebumps prickling up and down her exposed arms could attest to that with fair certainty. But at the same time, the cold she was feeling was also embedded in her core; a crushing freeze of the soul, one where even setting her skin aflame could not melt the ice residing deep within her.

She shivered, crossing her arms tightly over her chest to try and conserve what pitiful body heat she could. This cold… she had never felt anything quite like it before. Not in the depths of space, not even in the wintery caves of Ilum.

As she sat huddled on the metal slab she had mysteriously woken up on, Ahsoka finally took the time to observe her surroundings. What she saw made her stomach sink, a sense of impending dread mingling with the feeling of confusion she had been harboring ever since she woke up. She found herself sitting in a dim, bare cell, surrounded by drab chrome walls and furnished only with the bench she was sitting on.

Which brought her to the third thing she noticed.

A containment shield, a transparent red barrier, sat shimmering in front of her, the murky opacity distorting her view of what lay on the other side and casting an eerie red glow over the otherwise gray cell.

Pushing herself off of the bench, taking a moment to twist her torso and attempt to stretch out the intense cramps she felt in her lower back, Ahsoka walked toward the barrier, eyeing it critically. It flickered and wavered in front of her, the static of the projection buzzing at a low, somewhat menacing frequency. Ahsoka almost laughed out loud. Since when did containment shields ever work on a Force-user? Whoever had placed her in here must not have known who she was, what she was capable of. She would be out of here in no time, and would finally be free to walk out and away from wherever it was she found herself trapped in.

She closed her eyes and lifted a hand, gathering the Force around her in a swell of invisible power. She felt it pool at her fingertips, the command condensing before her. Ahsoka reached out a little farther, extending her hand and the intangible tendrils of the Force outward until she was just brushing the edge of the containment field.

She was about to inch forward over the edge and penetrate the mechanisms of the machinery to turn it off when she suddenly felt a dark, foreboding presence touch her, dark icy probes piercing her metaphorical skin. Ahsoka flinched, the debilitating cold that had been festering in her chest intensifying until she nearly felt her teeth chatter. She froze in terror; never before had she felt such unfiltered evil, not this close, not this devastating.

And then, through the darkness, a voice spoke with impossible clarity, almost as if someone was standing next to her in the cell speaking directly to her.

_I wouldn’t do that if I were you._

Ahsoka recoiled, her eyes flying open as she withdrew her hand and her command on the Force, the power slipping through her fingers like a fine sand. Wheeling backwards, she looked wildly about the cell, only to find no one. No one but herself; cold, alone, and, all of a sudden, terribly frightened.

But the voice had been real. She was _sure_ of it. There was no way she could have imagined it, she could practically still hear it’s deep timber and borderline lyrical accent reverberate in the hollows of her montrals. It had been real, she was almost positive.

Looking back toward the barrier, she gave it a mild glare. “Who am I to question mysterious voices in my head?“ she asked herself sarcastically, attempting to fill the crushing, oppressive silence of the room with something, _anything_. Even the sound of her own voice as she talked to herself, with its slight quaver from the unsettling occurrence and mild raspiness from disuse, was better than nothing. Reaching up, she itched idly at her wrist, stiffening as her fingers brushed against something hard and solid.

That was the fourth and final thing she noticed.

There was a cuff bound impossibly tight to her wrist, the metal digging harshly into her skin. Lightly tracing the object with her fingers, she attempted to lightly push it, trying to move it along her arm. Her efforts were in vain, as the cuff didn’t budge from its sealed spot on her wrist.

Scratching at the flesh around the band, Ahsoka studied her new accessory in confusion. When had that gotten there? She hadn’t been wearing that before she woke up in this strange place… had she?

Ahsoka looked around. And, with that being said, how had she even gotten here in the first place?

She struggled to remember. Her mind was foggy, her memories lying just beyond her reach, obscured and hidden. She could recall flashes, images here and there, and the longer she thought, the more she remembered.

She had been in Coruscant. The lower levels, to be more precise, but which one specifically, she couldn’t quite recall. She wasn’t even sure she had known at the time. She had been independent from the Jedi Order for only a few days, and as the memories became clearer and more tangible to the touch, those few days had been very, _very_ difficult.

She had been lost. Confused. Purposeless. The Jedi Order had been her whole life, and now, all of a sudden, she was on the streets with no money, no connections, and no lightsabers.

Ahsoka had started by trying to get a job. She applied as a mechanic at a few shops, but many of them either weren’t hiring or told her to come back later. She had a few leads for a job, but overall, was unsuccessful. At night, she would go to cheap hostels and use a quick Jedi mind-trick to convince the innkeeper to let her occupy a bed for the night, free of charge. It had felt inappropriate to use her powers in such way, but she reasoned that it was only temporary, and besides, she was desperate.

 _I’ll come back and repay these people one day_ , she remembered justifying to herself. Ahsoka snorted. That was going to be much more difficult to do now that she was locked up in this strange place. 

But anyways. She had been on her fifth day on her own, and was seriously considering just jumping planet. Just getting a ticket for a transport shuttle, and going to some random planet to start over. Coruscant, while bustling with activity and opportunity, was too closely intertwined to the Jedi, _to her old life_ , for her personal taste. Yes, if she wanted to remove herself from the Order, she would need to leave. It had been a difficult conclusion to make, but it was enough to give her new purpose and a direction in life. She had been on her way to purchase a ticket (and by purchase, she definitely meant steal, but again, it would’ve been a one-time thing), the line to the space port’s ticket booth in sight. However, she had been halted in her tracks by a muffled sob. It was a pathetic, high-pitched choking sound deriving from an offshooting alley, and Ahsoka’s step had faltered.

She wasn’t a Jedi anymore. However, that didn’t mean she didn’t still have her moral compass. That she couldn’t help someone who needed her. So, Ahsoka had altered her course to make a quick detour down the narrow side street determined to help whoever it was suffering just a few paces away.

From there, her memories were far less reliable.

A dim alley cast in shadow. A dark figure hunched over, sobbing. A chill that settled over her body, her nerves on fire and every instinct telling her to _run away and don’t look back_ but she had stayed frozen to the spot, unable to move a single muscle.

A small pinching in the back of her mind, blinding pain for the briefest of moments, and then everything went black.

That was all she remembered, the fragments being very sporadic and doing a poor job of letting her know how she got here. She could recall what she had been doing during the days leading up to this predicament, sure, but what puzzled her was how she had been captured.

How had someone been able to sneak up on her like that and overpower so effortlessly?

And, more importantly, _who_ had done it?

Was it the voice that had spoken to her?

Settling onto the floor, Ahsoka crossed her legs and closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath as she did so. Her mind was racing, her thoughts tumbling over each other in a deafening clamor. She would get nowhere in this mental state. So, relaxing her body, she began to meditate, seeking the elusive answers that rested just beyond her reach.

-

Maul let out a groan, immediately feeling his sore body scream in protest as he emerged from unconsciousness.

It took him a grand total of two seconds to remember where he was, and what had led him to this undesirable position. His arms strung up in a sturdy pair of plasma cuffs that propped his body up, he hung limp in the middle of a cold, barren interrogation room. He had been stripped bare, only a loose pair of black pants providing some semblance of coverage for his mechanical legs.

Rolling his head around, Maul tried to work out some kinks in his neck that had developed while he slept (against his will) in the deplorably uncomfortable resting position. The last torture session with Darth Tyrannus had been going swimmingly, up until a particularly potent shock of Force lightning had caused him to pass out. Usually, if such a thing were to happen, a handy little interrogation droid would promptly inject him with some drug concoction to jolt him back into consciousness, but evidently that had failed because now he found himself alone in his cell, sans Dooku and sans droid.

Soon, he would return. And then the cycle would begin anew. Dooku would ask questions, demand answers, and Maul would tell him nothing. He would be tortured. He would pass out. Wake up. Rinse, repeat. It had been like that since his capture on Mandalore, right after his former master slaughtered his brother and left Maul curled defenseless on his side, begging for mercy.

Although, when he had begged for mercy, he had been pleading for a quick, painless death. He had not wanted to be kept alive, not in this state of existential torment. Then again, it was partially his fault. Perhaps he had needed to be a little more specific.

Since being transported to this dour, freezing prison, Maul had struggled, the fog of insanity that he had successfully repelled and kept at bay for so long threatening to creep back in again. Everyday, he found himself slipping further and further, the only thing keeping him company his own putrid thoughts and the frigid cold of the prison’s climate.

And then he felt it. After the countless days, the endless weeks he had spent trapped in his abhorrent prison, he felt something different. Something unfamiliar. Foreign. He had grown accustomed to the cold darkness that had constantly settled over his body, the chill that permeated his core. The blackness of the aura of his former master and his new apprentice whenever they saw fit to grace him with their presence placed a permanent gloom over the entire complex, one that intensified when they came to visit and lingered in the air when they were absent.

But now, among the ice in his soul, he suddenly felt a dim warmth, a distant glow echoing somewhere in the building just beyond his reach. At first, he thought it to simply be his imagination, the wishful desires of a raving lunatic who was losing his sanity as quickly as he had regained it. However, as time passed, the warmth grew, persistent in its flickering and glowering until he found himself unable to deny its existence any longer.

Maul closed his eyes, his face wrinkling in intense concentration as he reached out, extending his presence in the Force to seek the source of the flame as it slowly burned brighter in the intangible, astral plane. He searched for it like a moth drawn to the light, like a starving man driven toward food. He was bored, and _dangerously_ curious.

As he focused his mind’s eye, the image around him sharpening with newfound clarity, he finally came upon the source of the warmth. He could practically see it behind his closed eyes, visualizing the fibers of Force that flowed through the mysterious person’s body like blood, giving him a vague picture of the general outline of their form. They were standing in a room, no, _a cell_ , cold and alone, very much like him. The golden light of the Force that coursed through their body shone like a beacon, so full of _life_ and _energy_ that Maul could almost taste it on his tongue.

He watched as the figure extended a hand, the glowing tendrils of the Force that composed their form reaching out to touch the pulsating energy field that kept them contained in their cell.

The motion was enough to snap him out of his reverie, his enchantment from the mysterious, alluring being interrupted as he realized the implications of what would happen should the person try to touch, or Force forbid, _break_ out of their cell. The defense mechanism of the shield would retaliate, and Maul could only begin to imagine the splitting, shattering pain he would feel rippling through the Force as the the shield reacted to their touch and the pitiful victim inevitably imposed their suffering onto everyone in the area.

So, without a second of hesitation, he broke the barrier separating them in a desperate attempt to make contact, if only for his own self-preservation.

 _I wouldn’t do that if I were you,_ he mentally projected, focusing all his efforts into conveying the simple sentence. To his surprise, it seemed to work, as immediately upon hearing his words, the figure recoiled, pulling their hand toward their body as if they had just placed it upon burning hot embers. The person clasped the hand to their chest, stepping back abruptly as they tensed up in a defensive stance and looked around at their surroundings.

Maul could practically taste the panic and fear in the mysterious newcomer’s Force signature, their golden aura flaring up in tantalizing torment. He wanted to reach out and touch it, really _feel_ the delicious, empowering terror, but he withdrew his probes slightly, not wishing for the figure to detect his presence.

As he hovered at the edge of their blazing energy, just on the peripheral of their radius, he felt something cold and familiar, disrupting his concentration with the implications of its foreboding presence.

Maul’s eyes flew open as a chill settled in his core and made his bare, exposed skin crawl.

The man who called himself Darth Tyranus stepped into his dark cell, his head held high and his shoulders thrown back in an uptight, majestic posture. Maul couldn’t prevent the scowl that materialized on his harsh features, the sight of the Count, the _Sith pretender,_ bringing a bout of unbridled rage to bubble right beneath his surface. This man was no Sith; he was a fake, a pawn masquerading as dark-sider, occupying that space beside Darth Sidious’ side that was rightfully _his_.

Few things were capable of igniting his fury to that degree. But for now, all he could do was clench his fists in his shackles, powerless and at the mercy of someone he was confident he could defeat given the opportunity.

Count Dooku regarded Maul down the length of his nose, before shaking his head in mock pity. Beside him, an interrogation droid floated into the cell. “The Hutts may have abandoned you Maul, but Black Sun and the Pykes remain loyal.” He walked forward, closing the door behind him with an effortless wave of his hand. “I want your resources and your sway over the black market.”

Maul scoffed, the harsh sound echoing through the barren chrome chamber. “As you’ve made clear the last few times you have graced me with your presence,” he growled, flexing his limp, cuffed hands in frustration at the thought of being in such a vulnerable position in front of his enemy.

“Give me the names of your underworld leaders and the locations of your shadow collective bases,” Count Dooku demanded in his rich baritone voice. “And we will grant you a quick and painless death.”

Maul scrunched his nose, the corners of his mouth pulling downward in defiance. “ _I will divulge no such information_ ,” he snarled, looking up to glare at the tall man standing in front of him. Their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills, both conveying their disdain and hatred of the other. Maul frowned as he noted the dark brown pools that were Count Dooku’s eyes. Yet another reason he wasn’t a true Sith, his eyes weren’t even yellow. _How pathetic_.

“Very well,” the Count said after a moment of silence. He lifted his hands in an overdramatic flair, his fingers curling in anticipation of what was about to occur. “Just remember, you have no one to blame for what is to come but yourself.”

Maul did not break his defiant glare pointed in Dooku’s direction, his nostrils flaring and muscles tensing as he prepared for the onslaught of Force lightning. He had become rather familiar with the unsavory sensation over the past few days (or weeks… time had become an increasingly elusive concept since his initial capture), and despite his frequent exposure to the torture technique, he still fell a pit of dread curdle in anticipation in his stomach. 

As the initial shocking wave collided with his body, the surges of electric energy racing over his exposed skin, Maul suppressed a groan of complaint. He clenched his jaw shut, determined not to make a sound as pain threaded through his body, electricity speeding through his tissues and veins like molten lava.

As the interrogation dragged on, interspersed with precious few breaks, burning beneath the violent and murderous fantasies of revenge that danced behind his eyes, Maul repeated one singular mantra in his mind:

 _I'_ ve _dealt with worse._

-

Count Dooku stormed out of the cell, his frustration emanating almost tangibly off of his body as he strode down the corridor.

Once again, despite his best efforts, Maul had resisted his interrogation. Dooku hadn’t held back, shooting the insufferable fool’s body with so much Force lightning, his fingers were currently tingling with the residual energy and tender to the touch. He had pushed himself to his limits, and still had no results to show.

His master would not be pleased.

Stepping into the lift at the end of the hallway, Dooku pressed his sensitive fingers to his temples in a feeble attempt to stave off the beginnings of what felt like a splitting headache as the elevator plummeted down the shaft.

In less than a minute, he was on the ground floor. Straightening his spine and lifting his chin, he restored his regal composure and prayed that his exhaustion and encroaching lightheadedness would not be evident to his master. Failure, as he had been repeatedly made very well aware, was not an option.

Darth Sidious was waiting for him in the hallway outside of the lift, the sleek doors of the elevator peeling back to reveal his hunched, decrepit form.

Although his outward appearance was that of an old, frail man, Dooku knew better than to believe that ruse.

“Master,” he rumbled, stepping out of the elevator and kneeling respectfully in front of the cloaked Sith, his head bent forward and looking at the ground. “My sincerest apologies, it seems that once again, I have failed to extract the desired information from Lord Maul.”

From above him, there was silence, and it took all of Count Dooku’s willpower to suppress the dark blossom of fear that sprouted in his chest.

Finally, his master spoke. “And what is the status of the prisoner?” His voice was harsh and raspy, grating like glass against Dooku’s ears.

“He is currently unconscious in his cell. I was forced to end the session prematurely… the shots of adrenaline from the interrogation droid unit were failing to maintain adequate levels of wakefulness.”

“I see.” Darth Sidious’ words were short and blunt. Dangerous. Dooku’s jaw worked involuntarily, the anticipation of a severe punishment threatening to overcome the calm façade he fought so hard to maintain.

After a few long, agonizing moments of silence, Darth Sidious continued to speak, his tone shifting. “You have done well, my apprentice. He is strong willed; it is unreasonable to expect him to surrender so easily.” Dooku’s tension did not abate; his master’s words were slick and oily with faux praise, offering a false sense of security. He would not be so easily reassured.

From the corner of his eyes, Count Dooku saw Sidious motion for him to rise. With reservation, he straightened to his full height. Even though he stood well above his master, this fact provided little comfort.

They began walking down the hall, Darth Sidious a step ahead of Count Dooku. “See to it that the prisoner is relocated to cell block B-twenty so that he may recover for another session of interrogation.”

Dooku hesitated, his mind racing as he processed the request and debated whether to speak up on the matter. Ultimately, he opted to say something, choosing his words with great care. “Master, I’m not sure if you are aware, but that is the cell across from our newest detainee.”

“I am very well aware,” Darth Sidious snapped. “Are you questioning my orders?”

“I would never dare, Master,” Count Dooku was quick to correct. “However, I fail to see the benefits of putting them so close together? If I may offer my opinion, it seems needlessly reckless.”

Beside him, Darth Sidious laughed, the sound empty and devoid of humor. “I have a feeling that bringing them together will prove to be very beneficial to our future plans,” he explained, his voice groveling over the words. “They will be of great service to the formation of my new Empire.”

At this point, they were outside, the raging snowstorm of Stygeon swirling around them in a thick sheet of icy white. Count Dooku bowed low, halting his procession and averting his gaze to the floor as his master walked ahead of him to make his way up the ramp of his private transport waiting for him on the landing platform. “Of course, Master. But if I may be so bold as to ask…?”

Darth Sidious simply shook his head, his hood swaying with the motion. “Patience, my apprentice. Soon, everything will become clear, and the path before us shall be laid out in precise accordance with my vision. Unless, that is, you doubt my guidance?”

“No, Master,” Count Dooku answered with haste. “I am but your humble servant. You have my utmost faith in your vision.”

“Good,” Sidious purred. He stood at the top of the ramp to his personal transport, looking down the walkway to regard Dooku with a subdued sneer. “See to it that Maul is relocated. Wait a few days, and then resume the interrogation. I must attend to my business on Coruscant, I trust that you will uphold this prison in my absence?”

“Yes, Master,” Count Dooku replied. Darth Sidious nodded his assent and then the ramp to his shuttle lifted, erecting a barrier between the teacher and the pupil.

As the ship took off from the landing platform and sped away, disappearing from view in the thick blizzard whipping around him, Dooku turned around to head back inside, feeling lost and confused, but conclusively determined to carry out the orders bestowed upon him.

**Author's Note:**

> I started this fic to give myself a break and prevent burnout from working on The Twilight Menace. So, I will be updating this story intermittently between that one! This one is much smaller in scale/scope, but should still be a fun ride :D
> 
> But yeah, sort of a slow start, but that's how the first chapters be hahaha, it should pick up pretty soon though! Thanks for reading!


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